


Surf and Turf

by Meatball



Category: Free!
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Food, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball/pseuds/Meatball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short works with the Free! guys.</p><p>15 Dec 2016: I'M ALIVE! WITH THINGS! Short things, but THINGS!</p><p><strong>NEW</strong> <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4809101/chapters/20303308">Ch. 7: Dialogue prompt: "I'm telling you. I'm haunted."</a><a></a>  SouNagi<br/><strong>NEW</strong> <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4809101/chapters/20303410"> Ch. 8: Dialogue prompt: "You're not interested, are you?"</a>  SouMako</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (Angry) Monopoly Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I found [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4727207/chapters/10874789) during lunch one day.
> 
> [maybeillride](http://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeillride/pseuds/maybeillride) and [daxii](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxii/pseuds/Daxii) apparently causing trouble.
> 
> I was inspired by the drabble prompt, so I did a thing. It’s not very RinHaru, though.
> 
> I giggled.

“No. No.  _Fuck you_. No.”

“But, Rin–”

“No ‘buts,’ Makoto. You know I fucking hate that game. Look! We haven’t even started and I’m already pissed off.”

“Well, everyone wants to play a game.”

“I got a game for you.” Rin walks over to his backpack in the entryway and pulls out a big black box. He walks back to the group, sharp teeth flashing in a wide grin. “You’re gonna love this.”

“What  _is_  that?” Haru asks.

“So,” he places the box on the table, “the idea is someone puts down a black card, which has a question, and everyone else answers the question with white cards in their hand”

“Ohh, so it’s like Apples to Apples,” Makoto pipes up helpfully.

“Yeah, kind of like that.” Rin suppresses a giggle as he opens the box. The rest of the group gather around to inspect it. “Check it out.”

Rei pulls out a black card. “The Natural History Museum has just opened an interactive exhibit on  _blank,_ ” He puts the card down on the table for everyone to see.

Makoto reaches in and pulls out a random white card. “Masturbation– _ohmygodRin!_ ” He drops the card on the table as if it were on fire. He and Rei simultaneously turn two different shades of red while Rin and Nagisa cackle maniacally.

Haru, curious now, takes out another black card. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly as he sees its contents. Nagisa catches his reaction and snatches the card from him, reading it dramatically. “What will always get you laid?”

Rin pulls out a white card. It was previously blank, included in the pack for owners to fill out with their own creative answers. Rin had filled this one out himself at some point. On it was a single word:

_Mackerel_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [idontevenswim.tumblr.com](http://idontevenswim.tumblr.com)


	2. Lunch - ReiGisa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hon hon hon! 
> 
> Nagisa and Rei enjoy a quick lunch.
> 
> Hon hon hon!
> 
> I am procrastinating on my SouMako smut. Wrote this instead.

“Room service!”

Rei turns around in his chair, pushing his glasses up by its corners, eyes looking suspiciously at the door where Nagisa just flounced through. Nagisa never comes home for lunch unless they have an errand or an appointment, neither of which they have today. Then again, Nagisa is nothing if not full of surprises.

“What are you doing home? Are you okay?” He adjusts his glasses once again, absently. There was no real reason to ask the questions. Nagisa would answer them soon enough.

The blond sashays through the room with a smile, one so innocent as to cross that line between real and pretend. Rei had learned years ago to just smile back and wait for the other shoe to drop, and so he does.

Nagisa plops himself down on his husband’s lap, inadvertently but inevitably spinning the office chair. He giggles and wraps his arms around Rei’s neck and looks at him with that innocent-not-innocent look and says, “I'm hungry,” as if that explained everything.

Among the other things that Rei had learned years ago was to live with the discomfort he felt when Nagisa was being coy. No amount of theorizing has helped him deduce what devious plots the love of his life concocts so he has settled on just letting himself get caught and working his way out from there. He can already see the strings being pulled. The net will close and soon, Rei will be caught in the trap. It looks like his program will have to wait a bit.

“Are you? I thought you packed a lunch.”

Nagisa answers with a kiss that was just a _little_ too chaste. “I did,” he says in a sing-song voice, before changing his demeanor completely. He traces his fingers along Rei’s jaw and neck, traveling down to his chest and further, sending the slightest tingling of electricity through his shirt. “But it wasn’t what I wanted,” he murmurs seductively, fingers toying with Rei’s zipper.

Rei holds his breath as Nagisa slinks off of his lap, pushes the chair back against the desk, and kneels in front of him. Already, he feels the tingling travel down to his groin and his dick stirring in response. Nimble fingers pop the button on his pants and unzip, revealing a quickly growing bulge in the boxer briefs underneath. Lips press against the twitching bump, teeth giving a playful graze across its width. Rei releases the breath in a slow, ragged whisper. “N-nagisa…”

Nagisa smiles and tugs against the waistband of both pants and underwear and Rei obliges him, raising his hips to allow the man to at least pull down the barriers from his ersatz lunch. The blond takes the half-hard cock in one hand, fondling it before leaning in and taking the whole thing in his mouth then pulling it out in one. long. suck.

Rei’s leans his head on the backrest as his eyes flutter closed and a low, breathy moan escapes his throat. The flat of Nagisa’s tongue rubs firmly against the back of his cock as he slowly sucks him, ensuring that he was fully hard in a few strokes. It never takes long for him to get aroused, to Nagisa’s delight. It’s less a testament to his sexual appetite than it is his attraction to Nagisa.

“Mmm…” Nagisa’s moan vibrates along the length of Rei’s cock as he pulls back one more time. Nagisa’s lips and tongue work a magic that causes Rei’s mental processes to shut off one after the other while other muscles contract involuntarily. Soon he’ll be gripping anything he can reach for support and writhing into that hot, wet hole, begging release.

There’s a shuffling noise at his feet that makes Rei open his eyes to check. He can’t see everything but the exposed flesh of Nagisa’s ass and the slow movement of his arm must mean he has unfastened his own pants and is now stroking his own erection. His arm moves slowly, matching the rhythm of his sucking while pressing the other hand on Rei’s hip to support himself. Rei catches Nagisa’s pink eyes smiling at him through gossamer lashes, skin flushed, lips dark red and bobbing around his glistening cock. It’s a beautiful sight that tightens the knot low in his belly and makes him groan in pleasure.

“Nngh.” Rei sinks down into his chair, right hand holding onto its arm, the fingers of his left clutching Nagisa’s hair and tightening each time Nagisa’s throat closes around him.

“Ahh...Nagi…” the name breaks on his tongue and his breath hitches. Nagisa has started moving faster, swallowing the entirety of his shaft with each stroke. Rei isn’t particularly _big_ \-- this he will admit himself -- but he _is_ also above average. And Nagisa is...talented. And enthusiastic. It never fails to excite him. And at this rate, this isn’t going to take very long at all.

Rei feels Nagisa rubbing against his calf as he moves his hips forward and back again, rocking into his own hand. Nagisa’s moans grow louder with every movement, the breathing shallower, the gasps more frequent. Rei knows without seeing that Nagisa is rock hard and getting close.

And so is he.

Sometime over the years, Nagisa had taught him to see the beauty in chaos. That not everything has to be neat and orderly and just so. That not everything has to be studied and planned out. That spontaneity can be beautiful and thrilling.

Like a surprise lunchtime blowjob.

He feels a pang of regret that Nagisa has to go back to work when all is said and done. But god, what he would give to see his cum on Nagisa’s face at the end of this. Or to have Nagisa shoot his cum all over himself so that Rei could lick it off of him. Or for Nagisa to come undone all over Rei’s chest and stomach...

The last image wrests a growl from deep within Rei. He arches his back, and rolls his hips towards Nagisa’s mouth in waves, pushing his aching cock as deep as he can into the wet, eager hole. Nagisa twitches and groans loudly, answering with faster undulations, sucking on Rei while at the same time thrusting into his own fist. The pitch of Nagisa’s moans is rising quickly. He’ll definitely be coming soon.

Nagisa’s stiff cock, spilling its heat in long white ribbons all over the floor, proves too much to think about. With only a couple of deep groans as warning, Rei’s cock pulses one more time before exploding into Nagisa’s mouth. Thankfully, Nagisa anticipates it. They’ve had plenty of practice at this, after all. He secures his lips around Rei and moans, encouraging him, sucking with more urgency. He takes Rei’s load and swallows it all, shuddering into his own climax with a long moan and leaving his mess on the floor in front of him.

They sit panting for a minute, Rei only capable of lazily stroking Nagisa’s hair as he languidly kisses and suckles Rei’s softening dick. Once the blood rushes back to other parts of his body, Rei looks over at his other half, already looking up and smiling at him.

“Thank you,” he breathes.

“Mm. You enjoy yourself?” Nagisa’s eyes look a tinge triumphant.

“Always.”

One more minute and Nagisa starts to gather himself, Rei following suit.

“I should clean up,” the blond declares.  “Watch out for…,” he warns as Rei moves, pointing down to the white streaks on the ground.

Rei pushes out a shaky breath and moans softly as he nods in acknowledgement. “I’ll get it,” he offers. “You should probably brush your teeth before you go back.” He leans over and presses his lips to Nagisa’s, tongue brushing the red, swollen flesh. He tastes a little bit of himself.

“Probably should, huh?” Nagisa contemplates with a grin. “Wouldn’t do to talk to people smelling like Rei juice.”

“Probably not,” Rei says, kissing him on the head before pushing him towards the bathroom.

Nagisa never does get to eat his real lunch before he heads back to the office but Rei makes him promise to eat it at his desk. He needs the energy.

Nagisa will get his turn tonight.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY SMUT
> 
> [idontevenswim.tumblr.com](http://idontevenswim.tumblr.com)


	3. The Sweet Life - MakoNagi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once a month, the gang gathers together to test out Haru's kitchen experiments for his cafe. Makoto and Nagisa show up ahead of everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For MakoNagi Week, Day 5 (September 27, 2015)  
> Prompt: PDA
> 
> Found out by sheer coincidence this morning that MakoNagi Week is happening right now. I had just gotten the idea of doing something for this ship and here came the opportunity to do so. Once again, I sacrifice SouMako. Ready the toothbrushes, there is a bit of sugar in this one.

“Ahmuhgahwd, deef eef fohh goot!” Nagisa gushes through a mouth full of freshly-warmed chocolate croissant. He swallows as he pushes the pastry in his hand toward Makoto’s face. “Here. You need to try it!”

“Mmm, that good, huh?” Makoto leans in and takes a bite. “Ahmuhgahwd…”

“Right?” Nagisa brings back the croissant to his mouth and shoves most of it in.

“Nagisa, slow down,” Haruka approaches the table with a fully-laden tray and starts placing even more plates of pastries on the table. “I don’t want to call the paramedics because you’re choking on my food,” he adds with a blank expression.

“It’s alright, Haru-ch-,” Haru glares at Makoto before he can continue. “Haru. I can take care of him.” He opens his mouth and lets Nagisa feed him the rest of the croissant.

Haru simply hums in acknowledgement, trusting in the firefighter’s training. “So that one’s good then?” He asks the couple, who both nod enthusiastically. One would think that two people with incurable sweet teeth would be bad judges of what he should sell at the shop -- what, with the bias and all -- but they’ve been right on with their recommendations. Business has never been better, and he owes a lot of it to these two.

He’d never admit it, but the monthly Testing Day at the café was something he really looked forward to. The others will be here soon and he enjoys hosting them, despite the tendency of the group to get a bit rowdy at times.

“Amazing as always, Haru-chan,” Nagisa comments, licking the chocolate off his lips. “This one’s definitely a contender. Goes great with the coffee, too! What else you got?” He greedily eyes the plates set in front of them.

“I’m experimenting with fillings, so it’s mostly filled pastries, but there are a couple of other things here and there.” He picks up a plate with three cream puffs and places it in front of the blond. “Here’s three different profiteroles.” He points to each, listing the fillings. “Nutella, amaretto, raspberry chocolate.” Nagisa claps happily.

He turns to Makoto and hands him another plate, this time with a small fluffy-looking cake. “Here’s a variation of a sponge cake from the Philippines. I tweaked the custard filling a bit.”

Makoto cuts off a piece of the cake and tastes it. “Oh, wow,” he starts, licking the sugar from his lips. “This tastes great, Haru! Um…,” he chews for a moment, considering the cake. “Maybe use brown sugar instead? And...there might be a smidge too much vanilla.” He cuts off another piece and presents the forkful to Nagisa. “Here, you try,” he says, smiling warmly.

Haru suppresses a smirk at the vanilla comment, letting Nagisa take the bait.

Nagisa leans over, eyebrow raised and smiling conspiratorially at Makoto. He closes his mouth around the fork and pulls away slowly, letting his tongue linger on the tines while keeping his gaze tied to Makoto’s. They share a knowing smile as Nagisa settles back into his seat, licking his lips suggestively, and reflects on his mouthful.

“Mm...yeah, Haru. What he said,” Nagisa says, looking up thoughtfully before his eyes meet Makoto’s again. “Especially the vanilla part,” he adds, winking. Makoto, for his part, keeps a straight face, except for the red tinge that colors it.

Haru knows that the flush of color isn’t out of embarrassment, but he sure wishes that he didn’t.

The dark-haired owner of Bord de la Mer Café takes the opportunity to go back to the counter, claiming to get more coffee. He loves that his old friends are happy together and that they’re so affectionate. He certainly encourages it, but sometimes, he finds himself regretting that he spurs it on.

Makoto picks up the raspberry chocolate profiterole from his plate and takes a bite, leaving the other half for his boyfriend, who snatches it up right away. They both sink into their chairs, groaning their approval simultaneously and giggling when they realize that they did so.

“Raspberry cream puff is a winner, Haru-chan!” Nagisa calls out across the room. Haru waves, noting the couple’s verdicts so far. When he looks back up, Makoto is picking off a wayward dollop of cream filling from Nagisa’s lip.

“You have some cream right-,” Makoto reaches over and swipes his index finger inward from the corner of Nagisa’s mouth, “ -here.” Nagisa catches it, licking the cream off, then sucking the finger -- just a second or two -- with a dramatic moan for good measure.

Haru shakes his head and turns to fill the coffee pot for the table.

“Nagisa, we’re in public,” Makoto scolds the blond, not really all that convincingly. Nagisa pouts. “There’s no one else here, Mako-chan! Haru-chan isn’t even looking this way!” Makoto winks and smiles at him, biting into the last profiterole.

Nagisa blinks. “Well, look. Now _you_ have cream on your face. Get over here so I can get it.” He stands up and leans over, meeting Makoto, who doesn’t even have to go that far, now that Nagisa is quite a bit taller. The blond licks the cream from Makoto’s lip then kisses him. Makoto offers no resistance, parting his lips and welcoming Nagisa’s tongue in to “feed” him the cream.

Haru, who has started walking back from the counter, opens his mouth to say something when the door chimes and a voice calls out and speaks in his stead.

“Oi! Get a room, you two!” Rin walks into the cafe with Sousuke, off the clock now, but still in uniform. They are followed shortly by Rei, Ai, Momo and Gou, who they’d apparently ran into in the parking lot. “You’re gonna make me sick. You're gonna make _everyone sick._ ”

“Damn, Makoto. Who’d have known you’d be this gross in public?” Sousuke teases, slapping him on the back.

“Nagisa’s a bad influence,” Rin declares, to which the rest of the group agrees.

“What?” Nagisa responds in mock incredulity. “There is just no way that’s true!” He grins as a chorus of disagreement rises from his friends. “Okay, fine! But I’m not stopping for any of you!”  
  
Haru places the pot of coffee on the table and heads back to load up the cart of food as Nagisa gets up and gives Rin a half-hearted tackle-hug. Makoto gets up as well, exchanging greetings and hugs with everyone else before they grab a seat around the table and catch up with one another. Makoto gives Nagisa a chaste kiss on the lips and whispers quietly in his ear before leaving him to entertain the others. Makoto follows Haru into the kitchen to help him bring out the food -- a combination of sweet and savory pastries to accommodate the tastes of everyone in attendance.

“Haru?” Makoto asks quietly when they’re alone.

“Hm?” Haru stops putting plates on the cart and turns to his best friend, whose suddenly serious face prompts him to raise an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, Makoto?”

“What?” Makoto raises his hands and waves frantically. “Oh, no! Nothing’s wrong! Everything’s great!” He smiles and takes a deep breath. “Everything’s great.” He repeats more calmly. Laughter erupts from the main room, as it often will for the rest of evening. Haru remains silent, a hint of a smile on his face letting Makoto know that he understands.

“Actually,” he continues. “I wanted to talk to you before now but we’ve both been so busy lately.” He pauses again, eyebrows knitting together in deep thought before his face relaxes into a satisfied smile.

“I’m gonna ask him to marry me, Haru.”


	4. Protector of My Domain - SouMomo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A.K.A. _Dammit, Daxii_ or _I was Productive at the Office Today_
> 
>  
> 
> [This prompt](http://daxii.tumblr.com/post/130341764308/jaclcfrost-heres-a-concept-me-riding-your) showed up on The Tumblr and I was tickled.
> 
> Surely I didn't have more important things to do at the office on a Friday.
>
>> here’s a concept: me, riding your ceiling fan like a gargoyle.  
> you, smacking me with a broom. both of us are yelling

“God-fucking-dammit, Momo,” Sousuke mutters.

The gleeful cackles and the commotion of items falling off the bookshelves are not the normal noises to come out of the living room when Momo and Pyunsuke play around in the evenings before dinner. Sousuke drops the ladle on the counter and in three strides, crosses the length of the kitchen and the threshold to the living room.

Nothing.

Blue-green eyes scan the large room, finding no sign of Momotarou or the beetle. He steps in, walking on light feet, listening carefully while taking stock of the damage. A vase is on its side on the coffee table, coasters in disarray. Cushions are strewn across the floor in front of the couch. A stack of books are on the ground, scattered in varying positions. Sousuke clicks his tongue and walks over, picking each one up and replacing them on the shelves. The lid to Pyun’s tank is open. No Pyunsuke present.

“Momo?” Sousuke looks around the room again, turning his ear to listen for his other half.

“Pyunsuke?” Again, he listens, this time hearing the flutter of the beetle’s wings followed by a whispered “shhhhh” and a muffled giggle.

Brows furrowing, he tries to track the source, eyes tracing a path up the staircase and to the second level. No Momo.

At the sound of a second giggle, his eyes snap up to the vaulted living room ceiling, widening as they try to process what’s coming in.

There, crouched like a gargoyle on the ceiling fan, is Momo, trying very hard to scowl at him like the stone guardians but failing miserably. The stag beetle is perched on his head, wings spread up and outward, framed by Momo’s fiery orange hair.

“How the hell did you even get up there?”

Momo evades the question, opting instead to ask in a booming voice, “WHO DARES ENTER MY DOMAIN?”

Pyunsuke flaps his wings.

There is no way that fan can hold a person, let alone someone of Momo’s size, which, at this point, is pretty close to Sousuke himself. Sousuke ignores the gnawing desire to find out exactly how his other half has managed to defy the laws of physics and focuses his energies on trying to get him down from the ceiling instead.

He clenches his jaw and glares. “Momo.” His voice is steady. Collected but stern.

“Get down from there, Momo, before you hurt yourself.” Sousuke approaches the fan, careful to stay off to the side. Visions of Momo jumping on him from ten or so feet in the air start flooding his mind. They are immediately followed by even more terrifying visions of the fan being torn off its mounts and it, along with Momo and maybe pieces of the house, falling on top of him. He cringes.

“ _YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME?_ ”

There is a grown man on his ceiling fan. A grown man with whom he is, for reasons he cannot fathom right now, in love. They have a pet stag beetle who may be sentient and is in cahoots with the grown man on his ceiling fan. Dinner is on the stove and is probably burning. And the grown man pretending to be a gargoyle on his ceiling fan refuses to come down. Sousuke didn’t ask for this and has no patience for it.

“For fuck’s sake, Momotarou! Get the fuck down from there or I’ll hurt you myself!”

Raising his voice seems to have worked. Momo breaks character and grins down at him. He raises a hand carefully, palm up, and points toward the far wall. Sousuke notices too late that there is something in his hand.

“Is that  _the remote?_ ” he yells louder, incredulous. The fan creaks and starts to rotate slowly as Momo speaks once more.

“ALL THAT YOU SEE BEFORE YOU IS MINE AND YOU ARE TRESPASSING.  _PREPARE TO SUFFER MY WRATH!_ ”

Sousuke sucks in his breath and glowers. He pivots in place and heads to the switch on the wall, flipping it off. He reaches into the closet door next to it and pulls out a broom before storming back towards Momo.

"Aw, Sou. We were  _fine._  We’ve been practicing!” Momo leans back proudly.

Pyunsuke flaps his wings.

“You’ve been  _what?_ ” Sousuke couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They’ve- he’s  _done this before?_  Practicing. He’s done this before and  _more than once._

Sousuke raises the broom and touches the blade that Momo is on, stopping the spin. He slides the flat side of the broom to Momo’s hip. “You have absolutely _no_  idea what wrath is even like. I swear to everything holy, Momotarou Mikoshiba. Get the fuck down from there or I’ll knock your ass right off and I’m not calling the paramedics when you break something!”

Momo considers him for a moment and heaves a sigh. “Alright,” he whines. A child who’s been told to come home after playing in the streets all day. “You’re gonna need to get out of the way, though,” he warns.

Sousuke eyes him for a brief second before pulling back the broom. He wasn’t lying about knocking Momo off the fan but the part about not calling the paramedics might have been exaggerated. He backs out of the way and starts moving toward his phone on the side table, ready to make the call. There’s only one way Momo is getting off of that thing and he may well break something when he does.

“Alright, Pyunsuke. Time to go!” Momo announces happily. Sousuke’s dark brows crinkle in even further as he anticipates the redhead’s actions. He presses his lips together and holds a deep breath as Momo curls his toes around the fan blade and pushes off.

Sousuke’s fists grip the broomstick as he waits for the fall. The wooden handle squeaks in his fingers as he brings it to his chest and twists it in anxious apprehension. He doesn’t hear it; all senses keenly focused on the action in front of him.

Momo’s calves tense, then stretch as he executes his dive. His arms extend upward, reaching for the sky, while his long legs stretch down. Metal creaks as the fan swings away in the opposite direction. The wood of the beam to which it was mounted splinters and screws pop off, suddenly dangerous projectiles with no targets.

Pyunsuke launches straight up from Momo’s head, narrowly avoiding a screw whizzing past. He swerves right, missing being impaled by a thick sliver of the beam. He buzzes into a wide spiral around the room before landing gracefully onto his tank. He skitters across it and pops inside, taking shelter under a large tree bark.

Momo’s golden eyes gleam in excitement as he reaches the apex of his jump and gravity helps him find his way back down to the ground. The ball of his right foot makes first contact, his knee bending forward to cushion the fall. He rests most of his weight on it and when his left foot touches down, he slides it outward, widening his squat stance. He reaches his arms toward Sousuke, fingers splayed as his body folds forward. Sousuke releases a grip on the broom, instinctively extending his hand back toward Momo, though it was for naught.

Momo’s right hand reaches down, fingertips touching the ground and bracing him from falling further forward. The other arm sweeps back, balancing him out into a perfect three-point landing and leaving him unhurt.

The same could not be said for the fan, which crashes onto the hardwood five feet behind him.

Momo lifts his head and meets Sousuke’s eyes, both men breathing heavily, though not necessarily for the same reason. A few seconds pass before Sousuke turns wordlessly, putting the broom back in the closet and heads into the kitchen.

Momo stands, watching Sousuke step away. He is still there when Sousuke walks back out, grabs his keys, phone, and wallet off of the side table, moves past him, and heads toward the front door.

Sousuke strides past the broken fan, not even sparing it a look, stopping only when his hand touches the door handle.

“Get dressed. You owe me a shit-ton of nice dinners.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be good, might be not. Not sure that I care. I had fun writing it. 
> 
>  
> 
> [idontevenswim.tumblr.com](http://idontevenswim.tumblr.com)


	5. Mrow - SouMako

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto is just _really_ good with cats.

“She’ll love you, Mako. I promise. Calm down,” Sousuke plants a small kiss on the back of Makoto’s head as he guides him into the coffee shop. Sousuke offers the words and the gesture despite knowing that it is an exercise in futility but he can at least feel somewhat like he’s done something productive.

“I know,” Makoto sighs. He rubs his hands together to stave off the cold that insists on settling on his fingers despite the relatively warm fall weather. “I can’t help it, Sou. She’s your mom.” He stops walking just as the door closes behind Sousuke and turns around. His voice drops to a stage whisper and he looks at Sousuke with wild eyes. “Moms are scary, man. They make you think they’re _kind_ and _warm_ but deep down inside they’re trying to figure out how to hide your body for when you cross them,” he says. He grips each of Sousuke’s biceps and in an exaggerated tone, begs, “Please don’t let me die, Sousuke!”

Sousuke chuckles and shakes his head. “She’s not going to kill you, Mako. Wait-,” he stops and meets Makoto’s eyes. “Is there something you need to tell me about your mom?”

Makoto only looks at him, wide-eyed and with the hint of a smile playing on his lips. Sousuke grimaces in mock horror. Makoto laughs and lets him go, starting back towards the counter.

“Ah, shit,” Sousuke says suddenly, looking back outside. “I meant to stop at the gift shop on the way down here.” He turns a pair of pleading eyes to Makoto, who has turned back to him. “Could you grab our drinks and food while I run back up there?”

“Sure,” Makoto agrees, “but hurry, okay?”

“I will,” Sousuke promises, checking his watch. “I already know what to get. She’s always late anyway. I’ll be back before she gets here.” He gives Makoto a peck on the lips before he turns to go, calling out a “Thanks, babe,” on his way out.

Makoto takes a calming breath and steps toward the counter, giving the barista a small wave as he walks up.

“Hey, Mako!” the young man greets him with a grin. “The usual for you and Sou today?”

“Hi, Koushi! Yes, please. Aaaaand…,” he holds a finger up as he looks through the food on display. “A slice of the strawberry roll and a vanilla scone too? Thanks!”

“Sure thing!” Koushi replies, taking down the order. “What are you guys up to today?”

“We’re meeting up with Sou’s mom, actually,” Makoto informs him. Koushi smiles back sympathetically, clearly not missing Makoto’s apprehension.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks as he takes out the pastries and plates them.

“No,” Makoto confesses, lips pursed into a bemused smile. “Not really. It’s the first time I’m meeting her and I think I might be dying.”

Koushi laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t die here, please. I really don’t want to deal with the paperwork.”

Makoto grins in response. “Well, in that case, I’ll definitely try not to. Wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“That’s right!” Koushi jokes, pushing the plates toward Makoto. “Seriously, though. I’d be _very_ surprised if she doesn’t fall for you, Makoto. I mean, I don’t know anyone who hasn’t.”

“Oh, god, stop!” Makoto’s hands flail in front of his reddening face. Koushi presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows as if to challenge Makoto to prove to him otherwise.

“Hey, are you still up for the Orgo study group?” he asks Koushi. “We’re meeting here at six on Thursday.”

Koushi smiles at Makoto’s obvious attempt to deflect the question and lets him get away with it. “Yeah! Thanks for the reminder. I’m actually working until six then so that’s perfect. And god, I need the help so bad. I’ll even hold the big table if you want.”

“Really? That’d be great!” Makoto says, a smile and slight nod acknowledging Koushi’s kindness.

With nerves (slightly) forgotten and the lack of customers in line, Makoto and Koushi continue chatting until the front door chimes and a petite woman in impossibly high stiletto boots clicks her way up to the counter.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she says to the two, her smile warm and radiant.

“Please!” Makoto steps aside and gestures toward the counter, returning an equally warm smile on instinct. “Sorry for being in the way.” He takes his pastry orders and heads toward an empty table where he puts down the plates and his jacket before going back to the end of the counter to wait for his drinks.

The woman from earlier is already standing there and waiting for her order. Only as he walks by does Makoto realize how small she actually is. Tiny. She might get up to Makoto’s chin, if that, _with_ her heels on. Still, despite her small stature, something about the way she carries herself declares her presence to the whole room and she draws glances from patrons across the shop without even trying.

She isn’t even dressed in anything special — white button-down shirt, casual blazer, dark, skinny jeans tucked into her boots, all tailored to her slim figure. The dark hair she’s piled into a casual bun looks professionally done and reveals an elegant face: narrow, with a square jaw offset by a delicate chin, small mouth, well-defined cheekbones that aren’t overly prominent, and large, bright blue eyes. Somehow, she manages to be striking _because_ of the otherwise ordinary look rather than despite it. She’s beautiful and looks young, but Makoto guesses she’s probably older. Definitely not an undergrad. She carries herself so much more confidently than that. Maybe a grad student. Or faculty.

Makoto gets so engrossed in speculation that he notices too late that her blue eyes are aimed directly at him, sparkling in amusement.

He lets out a small yelp that’s surely unexpected for someone his size and clutches at his chest. “Excuse me! Sorry! I was just—,” he stammers, bowing in contrition.

“Checking me out,” she finishes for him, grinning. “Please, do go on,” she teases, touching her perfectly manicured fingers to his elbow. She glances over to the drinks Makoto had come back for on the counter. “Or maybe you shouldn’t. Your girlfriend might not like that.” She takes her hand back and lets out a small laugh, mostly to herself.

“I-, uh-, I don’t have a girlfriend,” Makoto croaks out.

“Oh?” she raises a curious eyebrow. “I find _that_ hard to believe. Looker like you.” Her eyes wander over him appreciatively. “I know younger me wouldn’t have left you running around alone for too long,” she says matter-of-factly. “What are you, twenty-four? Twenty-five?”

Her confidence and forwardness both flatters and unnerves Makoto, who’s starting to feel like some sort of prey. The image of wavy blond hair and pink eyes flashes past his mind’s eye and a wave of panic sweeps over him.

_Nagisa._

That she reminds him of the most devious and crafty of his childhood friends suddenly ups the stakes for Makoto. He’s in trouble.

Nagisa, at least, he can handle. He knows Nagisa, understands him after all the years he’s known him. This woman is an unknown and he finds himself intimidated and terrified.

“T-twenty,” he answers without even meaning to.

“Really?” she laughs, disbelieving. “You boys just keep getting younger and younger. I’m starting to feel old!”

Makoto’s eyes widen in surprise and he speaks before he can catch himself. “You don’t look anywhere near ‘old.’” He slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as the words are out and starts to blurt out an apology before she stops him.

“Oh, nonono _no,_ honey. Don’t apologize. Flattery will get you _everywhere,_ ” she purrs, the corners of her mouth stretching to a matching cheshire grin.

Makoto glances over at Koushi for help, only to catch him hiding a snicker behind the espresso machine. _That traitor._

When he turns back to the tiny ball of intimidation next to him, she’s digging through her wallet and pulls out a card. “You should give me a call sometime,” she winks at him as she takes his hand and wraps it around her card.

Makoto stares at her, at a loss for words. He looks down at the card in his hand and the vision that threatens to close in on him registers a word or two. Something about models. _What._ Makoto looks at it again and laughter bubbles up from his throat.  

“What’s so funny all of a sudden?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” he replies, flashing the card back at her before stuffing it in a pocket. “I wasn’t laughing at you or anything. It’s just that— well, my name is Makoto, too.”

The bell tones of her laughter join his as a degree of familiarity settles between them. For all the discomfort that Makoto — the woman — gave with her unabashed flirting, Makoto — the man — feels strangely reassured by the laugh.

“What a coincidence, huh?” she says as Koushi calls up her order. “You don’t get to meet too many men with that name.”

“Mm, no, I guess not,” he agrees, extending his hand to her. “Can’t say I’ve actually met any, honestly. Tachibana Makoto.”

“Takagi Makoto,” she introduces herself, giving him a half-smile and a wink as she shakes his hand. “There certainly aren’t Makotos around that I’d want to steal away from their non-existent girlfriends,” she teases, looking up at him through dark lashes as she takes her drink from the counter and puts it to her lips.

Makoto turns away in embarrassment, thankful that he hadn’t yet picked up his and Sousuke’s drinks, lest he drop them in his mortification. He composes himself and reaches for them just when the shop’s door chimes again. Both Makotos turn to the door and watch as Sousuke walks through.

Makoto flashes his boyfriend a relieved smile, which Sousuke returns.

“Hey, Mom. You’re early.”

 

 * * *

 

Omake 

“You could have told me that your mother and I had the same name,” Makoto scolds Sousuke, not for the first time since he returned to the coffee shop. “Or that she never took your father’s last name.” His tone softens when he speaks to Sousuke’s mother, who is now seated next to her son. Softer, but still stern, “And _really,_ Takagi-san…”

“It was all in good fun, Makoto-kun,” she sing-songs, smiling over the rim of her cup. “Was it so horrible to meet me?”

“Geez, mother. What did you do?” Sousuke asks her. “I have to go home with him, you know.”

Takagi Makoto turns to her son with a serious look on her face but with a very bright twinkle in her eye. “Well, son, I’ll take him if you wo—,” she pauses briefly before correcting herself. “ _Can’t,_ ” she says, the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Oh? You sure about that?” Sousuke challenges her. He and his mother glare at each other for several seconds, struggling to keep their expressions neutral.

“This isn’t funny,” Makoto complains.

“Actually, it kind of is,” Sousuke replies, a puff of air coming out of his nose as he loses the fight and finally grins at his mother, who grins right back. Both of them turn their smiles to Makoto.

Makoto drops his head down to the table and buries his face in his arms. He mutters just loud enough for the table to hear.

“Please kill me now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this thing I found on my Tumblr feed on 5 Feb.](http://caxetph.tumblr.com/post/138744490021/ok-but-like-makoto-meeting-sousukes-mom-but-sous)
> 
> Anonymous asked: ok but like makoto meeting sousuke's mom but sou's mom doesn't know they're dating and starts hitting on makoto because none of the yamazakis can resist the mako booty
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Let's talk about big cats and how I'm totally not projecting. ](http://idontevenswim.tumblr.com)


	6. Fish Friends Have Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nagisa gets a surprise when he visits his friends in Tokyo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by a Tumblr post I ran across a few days ago.

“Could you get the door?” Sousuke calls out as he walks into the dining area from the kitchen. 

Nagisa looks up towards Sousuke and is immediately enthralled by the tantalizingly sinful cheesecakes in each of Sousuke’s hands. They watch him from across the room as Sousuke lays them down on the side table, making eyes at him, teasing, tempting. Nagisa swallows and leans forward, wiping off his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans, a slow, ragged breath escaping his parted lips. 

A snort comes from Sousuke’s general direction, followed by a, “Nagisa,  _ no _ ,” that jolts Nagisa out of his trance. Nagisa musters the most innocent look he’s capable of and flutters his lashes at Sousuke, whining in a sweet voice, “Just a small slice, though? Teeny-tiny?” His shoulders hunch forward and in as he brings up his hand in front of his eye with the thumb and forefinger pressed close together.

“No,” Sousuke replies firmly, unmoved. He turns around and starts back toward the kitchen, stopping in front of the doorway and calling over his shoulder, “I said, ‘no,’ Nagisa,” before disappearing through the opening.

Nagisa pivots and stomps toward the front door in stockinged feet. “Haru-chan would never be so  _ mean _ !” he shouts toward the kitchen. When a moment passes with no reaction from the other room, he presses on.

“I hate you  _ so much _ , Sou-chan,” Nagisa declares, his voice echoing through the apartment, just as he reaches for the doorknob. “So. Much.”

“Oh, no. Whatever will I do now?” Sousuke’s unconcerned voice floats out into the living room, followed by the soft sound of what surely must be Haru snickering.

Nagisa grins, pulling on the door.

“I don’t know why I even wondered what the yelling was about,” Rei says as soon as the door opens. “Of  _ course _ it was you.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Rei-chan,” Nagisa says, his smile angelic. He turns to the redhead standing next to Rei and asks, “What does he mean, Gou-chan?” stepping in to give her a hug even as his smile widens into something more impish.

Gou laughs lightly, little bells ringing in Nagisa’s ear. “No idea, but it’s so good to see you!” she says as she squeezes the breath out of Nagisa.

He, of course, returns the favor, eliciting a small squeak before turning back to Rei and hugging him too, gushing, “God, I’ve missed you guys so much.” 

“We’ve missed you too, Nagisa,” Rei says fondly, ruffling Nagisa’s blond waves. “You should come out here more often.”

“Yeah,” Nagisa says, releasing Rei and turning back toward the house to usher the two inside. “Maybe I should just move to Tokyo after all.” 

“Maybe you should,” a voice calls from behind them, farther down the path to the apartment. Nagisa’s ears perk up in recognition and his skin tingles from the sudden rush of excitement. His eyes narrow into delighted slits as a grin spreads across his face. He whirls around to the source of the sound and squeals, “MAKO-CHA-,” before immediately cutting off and dropping his voice to nearly nothing.

“Whoa,” he murmurs, eyes widening and jaw dropping in surprise. “Mako-chan?” he asks in a smaller voice than he’d planned. This is not the Mako-chan he remembers.

“Hey,” Makoto greets him with the usual cock of the head and sunlit smile that makes his eyes squint to almost nothing. “Long time no see, Nagisa,” Makoto says as he walks up and extends his arms for a hug.

Nagisa returns the hug as a matter of habit, his mind busily processing what his eyes — and now his hands and arms and chest — are taking in. “Yeah,” he says. “Ages.” Even to his own ears he sounds robotic. He tries to remedy this quickly and gathers himself as Makoto starts to pull away. 

“So what do we have to do to talk you into movi-,”

“What  _ happened, _ Mako-chan?” Nagisa interrupts, barely audible. He pulls back but keeps his hands at Makoto’s waist, shamelessly staring.

“What-. Ah,” Makoto starts to repeat Nagisa’s question before laughing when he realizes what Nagisa meant. “Grad school,” he answers, putting his hands on Nagisa’s shoulders and turning him around, guiding him back inside Sousuke and Haru’s apartment. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

Nagisa turns back around to Makoto in the entryway as the door closes behind them. Silently, he places his hands back up to Makoto’s sides, running them up and down, then eventually, across Makoto’s stomach, barely noticing the clatter of dishes being set in the next room while he explores. 

Makoto, for his part, stands by just as silently, letting Nagisa do as he pleases. A corner of his mouth curls up, clearly amused at his current situation as he watches Nagisa study him. 

“Mako-chan,” Nagisa breathes as his fingers turn to poking and prodding Makoto’s stomach, chest, and arms. “Mako-chan,” he says again, a trace of wonder — or maybe disbelief — as he speaks it. “You got fat!”

 

* * *

 

“Dammit, Nagisa, for the last time he’s not fat,” Gou scolds. “Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed with the loss of that muscle definition, Makoto,” she says, looking at him wistfully. Makoto simply chuckles, slight flush tinting his cheeks.

“I gotta tell you, Mako-chan,” Nagisa says, swallowing a rather large bite of cheesecake, “I am having so much trouble getting used to this new you.”

“Tough shit?” Makoto responds, his good-natured smile in complete opposition to the words. He places his hands on the mat behind him and leans back. “I barely have time to do anything these days. I’m just glad to get a run or a swim in a couple of times a week as it is.”

“No! No! I understand, seriously,” Nagisa reassures him, nudging Makoto’s leg with his own under the kotatsu while shoving another forkful in his mouth. “I don’t blame you.” He takes a moment to swallow before continuing. “I blame them,” he says, waving his fork toward Haru and Sousuke. 

Haru says nothing, but the ghost of a smirk plays on his lips. Sousuke, on the other hand-,

“-the fuck,” Sousuke says, brows knit together in indignance. “Oi! Give that back, ingrate,” he stretches across the table and makes a grab for Nagisa’s plate but Nagisa is quick to defend his food, snatching it from Sousuke’s reach.

“It’s a compliment! Chill your panties, Sou-chan!” Nagisa tries to glare but the both of them break into giggles anyway. “Do you even understand how  _ good _ your food is? Seriously, you two are dangerous. Mako-chan can’t boil water to save his life — sorry, Mako-chan-,”

“‘Sokay,” Makoto chuckles, waving him off. “You’re not lying.”

“-and with his accelerated program, I’m sure he doesn’t have time to learn,” Nagisa continues. “But I  _ also _ know neither of you would _ ever _ think of letting him go hungry. Because,” Nagisa pauses for dramatic effect, “that would mean having to explain to Rin-chan why Mako-chan is skin and bones.” He leans his elbows on the table and points the fork at Sousuke and Haru accusingly, eyes sparkling in mischief as he lowers his voice, “I bet you even make extra and send it home with him.”

A brief silence settles on the room while everyone sits frozen in place. Haru presses his lips together, clearly trying to hold back a laugh while Nagisa waggles his eyebrows at him and his boyfriend. Haru glances briefly at Sousuke and sighs, “Guilty.”

Nagisa turns his gaze to Sousuke, as does everyone else. Sousuke’s eyes sweep the room before he, too, shrugs and sighs, “Fine. Guilty.”

“Hah!” Nagisa whoops victoriously. He eats the last of his cheesecake and, mouth still full, starts talking again. “Honestly,” he pauses to swallow a bit. “I’m surprised  _ you, _ ” he waves at Sousuke, “don’t drag him to the gym or something.”

“He did,” Makoto sits up to explain. “Things just got real busy, real fast.”

“Don’t worry,” Sousuke says, smirking at Nagisa and Makoto both. “He’s gonna go through boot camp as soon as school is done.” Makoto winces.

“Meh,” Nagisa waves dismissively. “I really like it, actually,” he confesses, affectionately patting Makoto’s stomach.

“Really?” Makoto says over Gou’s protest of, “Speak for yourself, mister.”

“Mm-hmm! For real! Look,” Nagisa shifts and snakes his arms around Makoto’s waist and squeezes. “You’re the best bear hug ever!”  

Makoto laughs and returns Nagisa’s hug while the rest of the group groans.

“That’s it, then. Decision made,” Nagisa says with finality. The group eyes him curiously.

“It looks like I’m moving to Tokyo just so I can cuddle with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Rin doesn't know won't hurt him.
> 
> The prompt:  
> 


	7. Hauntings - SouNagi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short work based on a dialogue prompt on Tumblr: "I'm telling you. I'm haunted."
> 
> This little thing features Sousuke and Nagisa.

Quiet Thursday evenings aren’t unusual. A quiet Thursday evening that leads into a long weekend, however, are a rare treasure and tonight, Sousuke has settled into a corner of the couch, whisky on the corner table and the next installment of the Pendergast books in his hands. He’s tuned out everything—the TV in the background, the dog’s occasional barking, and Nagisa’s unfettered reactions to his show.

He’s five chapters in when he realizes his tumbler is empty and he’d left the bottle on the kitchen counter. Slightly annoyed, he debates on asking Nagisa to grab it for him when a pair of very cold feet shove their way between the couch and his thighs.

“Jesus, fuck, Nagisa!” Sousuke yelps as he jumps out of his seat. “What the hell?”

Nagisa pulls his legs back to himself and takes the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around his legs. “My feet are freezing.”

“No shit, really.”

“Something is very wrong with me, Sou-chan.”

“I thought we settled that ages ago.” Sousuke raises an eyebrow at him, lips pressed together in a weak effort to keep from smiling.

“No, Sousuke!” Nagisa says, tightening the blanket around himself. “It’s the middle of the summer,” he says, as if that explains everything. The use of his full name does give Sousuke some pause, more so as a genuine look of concern settles into Nagisa’s features. Nagisa glances from side to side before he looks up at Sousuke and continues, voice a loud whisper. “I think I’m haunted.”

“You what now?”

“I think I’m haunted,” Nagisa repeats, slower this time.

Several beats pass with each of them staring at the other before Sousuke’s usual stony expression crumbles into laughter.

“I’m serious, Sou-chan!” Nagisa frowns and throws a cushion at Sousuke. “I just looked it up and I’m telling you. I’m _haunted_.” He plucks his phone from his lap and waves it at Sousuke. “Look.”

Sousuke snatches the phone from him and scrolls through the page as Nagisa details the signs pointing to his haunting.

“Everything’s felt…off since the landlord started renovating the building,” he says. “Look at that list. It’s got all the signs. Everything’s creakier around here lately. _I’m_ creakier lately.” He kicks off the blanket and bends his leg, demonstrating how his knee makes little crackling sounds.

“Sometimes there’s banging from down the hall, even at night,” he continues as he tucks the blanket back around his feet. “Especially at night.”

“And there’s this weird thing where I’ll have a cold spot on my arm or something and nowhere else, even when it’s hot, like today. And— _and_ —I swear to god, Sousuke,” he says, gesturing toward the dog. “Kyou-ken-chan has been barking more for no reason. He’s _scared_ of something.”

Sousuke finally looks up from the phone as Nagisa finishes his list of “symptoms” and declares his diagnosis.

“I think the renovation released a very unhappy spirit and it’s hanging around me. I’m haunted, Sou-chan!”

Sousuke puts the phone up against his ear, eyeballing Nagisa as the line rings at the other end.

“Who are y-” Nagisa starts but is cut off by Sousuke’s raised finger.

“Nagisa,” Haru says at the other end of the call.

“It’s Sousuke.”

There’s a quick pause before Haru asks, “Is Nagisa okay?”

“He’s fine,” Sousuke assures him. “Mostly,” he appends when Nagisa cocks his head and squints at him. He starts toward the kitchen. “I got this,” he mouths at Nagisa, signaling him to stay put as he steps through the doorway.

“Think you could spare him a couple more days?” Sousuke lowers his voice as he asks Haru.

“Yeah. No problem. The twins have been asking for more hours anyway.”

“Good.” Sousuke breathes out, not quite sure why he was even concerned that Haru would say no.

“He says he’s haunted,” Sousuke offers before Haru asks, because Haru will ask. Or Makoto would and Sousuke would rather not have to explain to Makoto..

Haru hums his understanding. “Take the next week. We’ll be fine. Just call if anything else comes up.”

“Yeah. Will do. Thanks.”

Nagisa has stretched his legs out across the couch when Sousuke comes back, bottle of whisky in one hand, a mug of hot tea in the other.

“You know,” he says as Nagisa takes the mug gratefully, “you can always just say when you need more attention.”

“I know.” Nagisa hides a smile behind the rim of the mug. “But it’s more fun when we do it this way.”

Sousuke puts the bottle down on the floor by the couch and adjusts the blanket around Nagisa’s legs. “Well, I’ve been doing some checking,” he says, adopting an authoritative tone. “Internet says if we ask nicely, the spirit will probably leave.”

“Yeah? How long do you think?”

Sousuke shrugs. “A couple days? Can’t be more than a week.”

Nagisa places his mug on the side table and takes Sousuke’s hand, placing it against his cheek, then turning to kiss it. “Look how lucky I am to have someone worry about me like this,” he says against Sousuke’s palm. “Maybe the spirit just wants to be this lucky too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](http://idontevenswim.tumblr.com)


	8. It's a Thing We Do - SouMako

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short work based on a dialogue prompt on Tumblr: "You're not interested, are you?"
> 
> Featuring SouMako (yay!)

The rest of the floor has mostly emptied, the project teams fanning out to nearby bars and restaurants for their weekly get-togethers. With the company’s five design contracts overlapping schedules, the tempo at Studio Peach has been pretty high over the last few months. Friday night outings have become more of a staple, if only to blow off some steam.

“I’ll meet you over there,” Makoto says, waving his colleagues off to the elevators while he heads farther down the hall toward Marketing.

Four of the five members of the marketing team have already packed up their belongings and are about to walk out when he steps into their area.

“The other dev guys are already headed down to Tanaka’s, if you want to join us,” Makoto tells them. “Ino reserved the usual room.”

“Sweet, sweet karaoke,” the tallest of the three says, far too energetic for someone who regularly works a minimum of fifty hours a week. “You are a hero of epic proportions, Tachibana!”

Mikoshiba’s enthusiasm is nothing short of awesome. Makoto laughs and gives him a dismissive “Oh, please” as they walk past. “Thank your brother. It was his idea.”

“The kid’s trying to butter me up for something.” Mikoshiba grins. “See you in a bit then?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Makoto says, turning the corner and walking along the row of tables ahead of the cubicles.

“Hey, Yamazaki,” he calls over the wall as he approaches. “You’re not interested, are you?”

The answer has always been “no” but Makoto asks anyway.

 _Not really my thing,_ Yamazaki will say, lips pressed into an apology for preferring to decompress more quietly than a night out with the guys would allow.

 _That’s a shame,_ Makoto will respond with a droop of his shoulders so imperceptible even he doesn’t notice, before he brightens with a hopeful smile and a _Maybe next time_ and Yamazaki will smile back, nod, and turn back to his laptop.

 _Don’t work too late,_ Makoto will say as he leaves and Yamazaki’s _I won’t_ will follow him back down the empty hallway.

The conversation has become as much a ritual as the get-togethers that when Yamazaki doesn’t answer right away, unease swoops in where anticipation had been happily settled, and Makoto’s brows twitch together until he hears the light but frenzied tapping.

Makoto peeks around the cubicle to find Yamazaki squinting at his screen, lips silently dictating the email his fingers are racing to compose.

Concern crumbles away into amusement. Makoto leans against a wall edge and crosses his arms over his chest while he waits for Yamazaki to finish up and say the next line in the script.

A full minute passes, maybe a bit longer, before Yamazaki’s voice pulls him back in from the nothing he’d been staring at. He’d apparently let his mind drift, the dimmed office lights, the hum of the air-conditioning, the light clicking of keys all lulling him into a daydream. He doesn’t even remember now what it is he was thinking about.

“Sorry,” Yamazaki says, chair fully turned around and facing him. “I had to get that one out right away.”

Makoto straightens. “No worries!” he says, emphasizing the reassurance with a smile.

“So,” Yamazaki says. Makoto adjusts the messenger bag’s strap across his chest and readies for the coming declination, his smile expectant now. “I guess we’re doing karaoke,” Yamazaki continues, reaching behind him to close his laptop.

“That's—”  Makoto starts, cutting himself off when he realizes he hadn’t been fed his cue.

“That’s right,” he says instead as Yamazaki stands and grabs his own bag and jacket. “I hope you’re ready to drink a _lot_ ,” Makoto says with a knowing grin.

Yamazaki only glances at him as he shrugs his jacket on and Makoto answers the unvoiced question.

“Mikoshiba is a terrible singer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](http://idontevenswim.tumblr.com)


End file.
